


The Pride

by Zaeli_Echo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: But so is Bear the Torch, But so is Calculated Risk, But so is Crowfeathers, But so is River Run Wild, But they have this competitive rivalry too, Dabizaal stables have a friendly rivalry with the Pride, F/M, I'll try to remember to define them in the notes, Lance's middle name is Marea and there's nothing you can do to change my mind, Lotor and Keith are friends, Lucy Blue is the Blue Lion, M/M, Many equestrian terms, Marea means Tide, Past and present paladins, Punny clever show names, Red misbehaves, Red-Winged Blackbird is the Black Lion, Seattle Fire is the green Lion, Shiro is LITERALLY a greek god, Slow Burn, Stay Gold Ponyboy is the yellow lion, The Crimson Comet is the Red Lion, Unreliable Narrator, but so is Stand Firm Brave Soldier, college sports au, equestrian AU, i'm so proud of myself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-03-12 17:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13552356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaeli_Echo/pseuds/Zaeli_Echo
Summary: Basically, the College Equestrian AU that nobody asked for.-Lance is an insufferable flirt unless it's around someone he actually likes.Shiro is a Greek God.Hunk is a summer child that sees beauty in everything and everyone.Pidge/coffee is a legitimate relationship.Keith has no verbal filter.The paladins have their hands full.





	1. "Everything is Beautiful" - A memoir by Tsuyoshi Garett

The first thing Tsuyoshi Garett noticed when he got to Altaea University?

It was _massive_.

Like, the size of freaking _Texas_.

Not that he knew how big Texas was. He didn’t even have a connector flight between Hawaii and Florida.

And by Wakea was that flight long.

The second thing Tsuyoshi noticed was how gorgeous it was.

The entry was framed by towering Wisteria trees that clung to the red brick walls and draped over the lattice awning, branches hanging heavy with lavender flowers. Guarding the edges of the path were sprawling Yucca and Aloe plants interspersed between palmettos and sweetshrub. It looked wild, but in a calmly awe-inspiring sense. An iguana lounged on a trellis, soaking in the sun and watching the path with lazy, half-closed eyes.

Even the doors were artistic. The pale bamboo wood was inlaid lightly with carvings of leaves around bronze handles, the simplicity making the grain of the wood stand out. Pulling on the handles opened the doors easily, the hinges making a soft creak.

The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. The domed roof was almost entirely glass, allowing for the massive Japanese maple that dominated the room. Around the edges sat thin beds that housed exotic-looking flowers and succulents that perfumed the room with a light, heady scent.

Doors branched off the main atrium, and Tsuyoshi let himself trail slowly around the beds. He read off the names to himself as he passed the doors.

    “Blaytz Nalquodi, Ellen Trigel, Aputi Gyrgan--”

A large-set man stepped out of the door whose nameplate Tsuyoshi had just been reading, grinning like a fool and taking a deep lungful of the fragrant air before he noticed the startled student next to him. The man turned his wide friendly smile on Tsuyoshi.

    “Hello there. You must be one of the new students. I’m one of the leaders here who call themselves Paladins. My name is Aputi, but people tend to have difficulty pronouncing it. You can call me Gyrgan.” He extended a baseball-mitt-sized hand to shake. Tsuyoshi shook it half-timidly. “I suppose you’re looking for the headmaster?” His larger-than-life grin never faded.

    “Yes, sir. I’m Tsuyoshi Garett.” Hunk offered a smile.

Gyrgan looked at him for a second, his grin fading slightly as his eyebrows rose.

    “Are you, perchance, Samoan? Your name sounds like you may be.” The Paladin’s gaze turned a touch more scrutinizing.

Tsuyoshi nodded, feeling a smile start to spread across his face. “I am. I’m from Molokai,” He grinned.

Gyrgan’s grin grew blinding and he laughed, a rolling, booming laugh that made the room a little brighter as the echoes of it filled the room. Hunk found himself laughing along, his own laugh small and quiet in comparison to the Paladin’s.

The paladin’s laugh quieted and he looked a little sheepish. “I’m sure Trigel’s gonna come fuss at me now. Let’s get to Alfor’s office before she does,” He grinned, ushering Tsuyoshi towards the spiral staircase that stood next to the doors. Tsuyoshi had completely overlooked it in his awe at the botanical accents of the room.

As Gyrgan led him up the stairs, Tsuyoshi was reminded of something.

    “ _Maui_ ,” He cursed. “I forgot that Goldie’s flying in today. Hey, Professor Gyrgan?” He turned to the Paladin, feeling himself starting to panic.

    “Just Gyrgan is fine, son. What is it?” He sobered, possibly seeing the distress in the boy’s features.

    “My horse is flying in today, and I need to borrow a trailer to retrieve him from the airport. Is there any way I can do that?” Tsuyoshi knew he was panicking, but Goldie was his baby. He had to take care of him.

Gyrgan seemed to sense his panic, resting a large hand on his shoulder.

    “We have a group of students who need to retrieve their horses from the airport. Blaytz is gonna take his dulie and the six-horse trailer to get them. You are welcome to go with him; I think the others are gonna join him too.” The Paladin’s face was creased in a kind smile. “It looks like we’re gonna have a good Pride this year.”

Tsuyoshi relaxed a touch, shoulders falling out of their previous tense line. “Okay, thank you.” He couldn’t help but flush a little in embarrassment.

Gyrgan chuckled, patting him on the shoulder again. “Go on in, I’m sure Alfor is waiting for you.” He smiled encouragingly.

Tsuyoshi nodded, bracing himself and let himself through the door. It looked very similar to a smaller version of the doors to the atrium, the simplicity calming him as he turned the knob and pulled, the door swinging open silently.

In one corner of the room sat a large, imposing mahogany desk. Now, the desk itself was polished to a sheen and obviously well-taken-care-of. The surface of the desk, however, was covered in stuff, and by stuff, what is meant is an impressive array of books, notepads, and stray papers held down by a myriad of paperweights ranging from seashells to decorative bottles to horseshoes. Upon further inspection, Tsuyoshi found those horseshoes very much used, and felt a boost of confidence in the fact that the Big Fancy Dude(tm) was also a horse person.

    “Hello?” Tsuyoshi could hear voices from somewhere in the room, but couldn’t see from whom they were coming. A small exclamation followed his inquiry.

    “Oh! Hello there!” A tall, rather imposing-looking man stepped from around the corner, a bright smile creasing his face before he cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “I am Alfor Altaea, Headmaster of Altaea University. How may I help you?” Tsuyoshi swore he could get whiplash from the Headmaster’s switch in personality, but gave the man a timid smile nonetheless.

    “Hi, Headmaster Altaea. I’m Tsuyoshi Garett. I’m here to sign in before I go to get my horse from the airport. Gyrgan sent me up.” The headmaster’s face instantly softened at the title and he shook his head, chuckling.

    “Just Alfor is fine, Tsuyoshi. While I’m putting you in the system, do you have another name you would like to go by?” Alfor became laser-focused again, typing on the sleek desktop.

Tsuyoshi gave a small smile. This was an easy one.

    “My friends back on the island called me Hunk. I think it was a joke at first, but it stuck,” He replied.

    “Alright. Tsuyoshi… Hunk… Garett.” Alfor muttered, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Tsuyoshi checked is watch.

    “Um, Alfor?”

He received an inquiring hum in response.

    “Gyrgan said that one of the Paladins is going to take a trailer to the airport to retrieve some horses, and mine is one of them. He leaves in ten minutes. Am I okay to go?” Tsuyoshi shifted on his feet, anxious.

Alfor glanced up, tapping the enter key with finality.

    “Blaytz isn’t exactly one for punctuality. You have enough time to get there. Go on, now.” Alfor smiled warmly. “There are maps of the campus at every cross in the paths. The stables are directly across the quad from here. Walk in a straight line and you’ll get there.”

Hunk nodded, pacing out of the room and down the stairs, flashing a grin at Gyrgan, who was being lectured by a slim woman with spiky blonde hair. He walked out of the rear double doors and into the quad.

If the entranceway was beautiful in an exotic, eye-catching kind of way, the quad was the kind of quiet beauty that a mountain meadow holds. Broad and open, the field was dominated by a dozen or so scattered Basswood trees, with smaller Maples and Dogwoods dotting between them. Students lounged against the trunks, reading and talking and sleeping. Walking between the trees calmed Hunk significantly, and by the time he reached the large domed arena, he was considerably more relaxed.

Above the grand double barn doors were the words **The Den** in large, erect letters. Hunk rolled one of the doors open enough to get through and pulled it closed behind him, closing his eyes and breathing in the familiar smell of sweat and leather and pine shavings.Thoroughly calmed by the warm smell of the stables, he proceeded to look for the stall that was pre-reserved for his Goldie. He passed many large stalls, reading off elegant, clever, and occasionally unpronounceable Show names, before he found Goldie’s. A large box stall just like the others, the plaque on the bottom half-door gleamed a burnished bronze, reading **Stay Gold, Ponyboy** in the same font as the others. Goldie’s stall was flanked on one side by one containing a proud-looking chestnut Saddlebred whose plaque read **Ginger and Caffeine** , and on the other side by an empty stall with a plaque that sported the name **Seattle Fire**.

There was a noise in the stall reserved for Seattle Fire, startling Hunk. A fluffy head peeked through the bars, bright amber eyes peering at Hunk through gleaming round glasses.

    “Hey, can you let me out? Lance locked me in here,” The creature asked, flashing him a bright grin.

Hunk chuckled, flipping the bar lock and opening the door. What trotted out was a slight boy with slim shoulders and long legs despite their small stature.

    “Hi, call me Pidge.” He stuck out a hand and Hunk took it, shaking it once before releasing, just like his Mama taught him.

    “I’m Tsuyoshi, but Hunk is fine.” He smiled. “Who’s this Lance? Do I need to hang him by his toes?” Hunk projected, and chuckled when he heard someone yelp a sharp _NO._

Pidge smirked. “You could lock him in his stall. He’s in the one that says Lucy Blue on it.”

At his words, a lanky shape darted of a stall two down from Pidge’s and screeched to a halt behind Pidge.

Lance held out a hand for Hunk to shake, and Hunk shook it. “I’m Lance. You’ve already met K-bird-- Ow!” He cut off with a yelp, Pidge glaring sharply at him. “Anyway, are you a horse person, too?”

Hunk was straight as a ruler, don’t misread anything here, but Lance was _pretty_. All dark tanned skin and long limbs, he had these blue eyes that stood out starkly against the dark of his face and wavy short hair, and this half-cocked kind of grin that flashed blinding white teeth and made the faint freckles across his nose and cheeks twist and dance. Hunk was almost startled at the ease with which Lance held himself. He was built like a swimmer, but held himself like a soccer player, knees bent slightly and prepared for any movement, and that shimmering blue gaze shifted from place to place, watching and waiting.

Pidge was pretty too, but in a different way. He had large, intelligent eyes behind his glasses and a mane of fluffy dirty-blonde hair that swept out in a saucy flip at his shoulders. His skin was a flawless cream tinted a shade or two darker on his cheeks and arms. His smile bore a striking resemblance to a foreign exchange student that had come to visit Molokai a year prior. Pidge just seemed to ooze intelligence. His eyes were always darting about, calculating and analytical, and Hunk could practically hear the gears turning under that mane.

    “Hey, yoo-hoo~” Lance snapped Hunk out of his head, smirking. “You a horse person or not?”

    “Oh, yeah. This is where Goldie’s gonna go, apparently. I’m waiting for Professor Blaytz so that I can hitch a ride to go get him,” Hunk grinned sheepishly. He hadn’t meant to go off on a mental tangent like that.

    “He’s not gonna be long. I saw him pulling the dulie out of the garage as we were walking over.” A new voice claimed, prompting Hunk to turn around.

And if Lance was pretty, new guy was drop-dead- _gorgeous_.

Despite having a puckered scar across the bridge of his nose, this guy just screamed attractive. A shock of white hair fell loosely over elegantly slanted eyes, flanked by a black wavy sweep and an undercut on both sides, he was built like a freakin Greek God. Broad, muscular shoulders, a heavy barrel-chest, and a trim waist led into long, strong legs. Hunk bet he could crush a watermelon with his thighs. The most striking feature, however, was the gleaming silver prosthetic that functioned as his right arm. It didn’t even make noise as he held it out to shake.

    “I’m Takashi Shirogane, but Shiro works just fine.” He gave this bright grin that softened his chiseled features and made his grey eyes flash.

Hunk shook his hand mechanically (Hah! Machine puns), utterly fascinated by this Shiro character. “I’m Hunk. It’s good to meet you.”

Shiro moved on to Lance and Pidge, that friendly smile still plastered across his face and stretching his scar a little longer.

As he finished introductions with Lance, he glanced at the stall he had ended up in front of.

    “Hey, Keith! I found Blackbird and Red’s stalls!” He called, tracing a plaque sporting the name **Red-Winged Blackbird** with a wistful smile.

Running footsteps sounded and a mid-height boy rounded the corner, trailing to a stop in front of the group.

This kid and Shiro were similarly gorgeous, displaying very similar facial structure and frame,  but Keith(?) was far slimmer, with long legs and a proud set to his shoulders. He sported a tousled mane of long black hair that curled up wildly at the crook of his neck. He had high cheekbones, a cut jawline, and slanted eyes like Shiro, but his eyes, instead of Shiro’s flashing quicksilver, glowed a blue-violet under the fluorescent tube-lights. Hunk guessed they were brothers.

    “Red’s gonna go just to the right of Blackbird,” Shiro called to the newcomer - supposedly Keith - gesturing to the stall next to Blackbird’s.

Keith offered Hunk, Pidge, and Lance a nod in greeting before padding over to Shiro, his tread almost silent on the concrete floor until he stopped with a stomp as Shiro swatted him on the back of the head.

    “Introduce yourself, Keith. Have I taught you nothing about manners?” Yeah, definitely brothers.

Keith scowled at Shiro for a moment before relenting and turning to the others.

    “Hi, I’m Keith.” He stuck out a hand, posture firm and correct. Hunk shook it first, flashing a bright grin at Keith and earning a shy smile in return, Pidge’s comment on the quietness of his steps encouraged a proud smile, and Lance…

Lance commented on his hair. Calling a very not-mullet a mullet isn’t the best way to earn yourself a smile. He got a scowl for that instead.

Before Keith could spit out the biting comment that was undoubtedly curled on his tongue, a tall figure with Lance’s dark skin and laughing blue eyes padded into the hall, grinning.

    “Sorry I’m late, guys. The truck and trailer are waiting right outside.”

  _This must be Blaytz_ , Hunk mused to himself, following the rest of the group as they followed Blaytz out to the truck.

    “There’s enough room for everyone in the trailer, or I can fit three of you in the cab. I’ll leave you to fight over it,” Blaytz grinned and hopped into the driver’s seat, the dualie roaring to life.

Pidge shrieked his dibs on Shotgun and climbed into the cab, Lance and Keith following suit and clambering into the backseat.

Hunk looked at Shiro, who looked back at Hunk. They chuckled, shrugging, and climbed into the cabin of the trailer.


	2. Red and Gold are an Iconic Duo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk-centric. I think I'll do a Keith-centric chapter next. Mostly so I can describe silly sappy smitten Shiro. The world needs more Smitten Shiro. Also, some signal-boosting for the western riders coming up.

The silence was very awkward.

    “Is Keith your brother?” Really, Hunk hadn’t meant to say anything. It just sort of jumped from his brain through his lips without his explicit permission.

For a moment, Shiro just stared at him, those piercing silver eyes pinning him in place.

Hunk isn’t afraid to admit he was kinda terrified.

Then that soft smile took over Shiro’s features, and he nodded.

    “You were awfully quick to pick up on that. You read people often?” Shiro’s face was surprisingly inviting when he smiled. All of those sharp edges made him look intimidatingly-good-looking, but with that smile softening all those hard lines, he looked like a stereotypical supportive dad figure.

Hunk shrugged. “The people at my highschool always fussed at me when I figured things like that out on them. I was worried for a second that you would, like, crush my head or something,” He admitted with a sheepish smile.

Shiro shrugged, the ghost of a smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth.

    “You look like full brothers, but you act a touch closer than most full siblings I’ve seen.” There he went again with the unapproved comments.

Again, Shiro nodded. “My family adopted Keith when he was seven. It’s been like twelve years and he still lacks manners,” He shook his head, chuckling.

Hunk found himself laughing along, before they settled into a more comfortable silence.

-

Not five minutes later, the rumble of the dulie cut off and Pidge poked his head into the cab of the trailer, eyes wide and excited.

    “They’ve just got everyone unloaded. Let’s go!” He disappeared from sight, and Shiro and Hunk looked at eachother, eyes gleaming, and followed in hot pursuit.

Hunk’s eyes darted about the temporary stalls, looking for the distinctive mellow-gold coat of his baby. He saw multiple palominos, but they weren’t quite the burnished sheen of Goldie. A nicker from over his shoulder had him turning, and there he was. In all his gleaming glory, Hunk’s gelding was being led out of the plane. Hunk upped his pace, meeting the transport personnel and flashing his ID, proving himself Goldie’s owner and taking the leadrope. Goldie greeted him happily, lipping at his pocket in anticipation of the treat he knew was there.

    “You spoiled thing,” Hunk chuckled, pulling out a peppermint and giving it to the gelding, who nodded his head as he crunched on it.

A few shouts and a whinny drew Hunk’s attention from Goldie and to a proud-looking chestnut Thoroughbred. The mare had her ears pinned and her knees pulled to her chest in an impressive rear, tossing her head and throwing the workers off her lead rope. As soon as she was free, she picked up her feet and cantered straight to Keith, mincing to a halt in front of him, tossing her head some more.

Hunk looked at Shiro with a puzzled expression, but Shiro was watching the pair with a quietly proud smile as Keith unhooked the lead from the mare’s halter and looped it once or twice, padding over to the worker and helping him to his feet with an apologetic smile and a few words Hunk couldn’t make out. The whole time, the mare stood calmly behind Keith, chewing contentedly with her ears relaxed and flickering about.

After supposedly smoothing things over, Keith turned and padded over to Shiro and Hunk, the mare following close behind.

    “I don’t understand why they don’t read the notes. I told them not to try to use a leadrope, but did they listen? Noooo,” He grumbled, sharp eyes softening when the mare rested her head on his shoulder.

Hunk’s curiosity got the best of him again, and he asked, “Is she only like that with you?” Immediately cursing himself.

A beatific smile crossed Keith’s face and he stroked the mare’s nose. “Yeah, Red’s a one-person horse. She tolerates Shiro, but that’s just because Blackbird would kill her if she hurt him,” He winked at Shiro, drawing a chuckle from the older sibling as he padded off, heading towards a worker who was exiting the plane with a tall black horse in tow.

    “Is that Blackbird?” Hunk’s voice was quiet with awe.

Keith nodded. “He’s gorgeous, huh? You should see him under saddle. He’s one of the best movers I’ve ever seen.”

    “Gelding?”

    “Stallion.”

The worker checked Shiro’s credentials and handed off Blackbird to Shiro, the stallion’s proud neck arching as he blew a puff of air at the older man’s face. Shiro responded in kind, a broad grin creasing his face, and slung the lead over Blackbird’s shoulders, letting him follow his rider.

Goldie nickered, reaching his head out to sniff at Blackbird, ears forward and neck arched in a way that Hunk had learned indicated he was excited. Blackbird responded in kind, ears flicking forward. They broke apart with a snort, Goldie tossing his head.

Shiro chuckled. “Looks like you two already know each other.” A bright smile graced the older man’s face as he watched the two horses exchange greetings.

Red leaned her head over Keith’s shoulder and gave Blackbird a playful tug on his mane, earning a snort from him and an exasperated shove from Keith.

Measured hoofbeats drew the trio’s attention from their horses’ antics.

Lance was mounted on a sturdy-looking blue roan and seemed to be going through a routine. The mare was showing impressive movement, lifting her knees high in a weaving cross-canter despite her travel boots, with her rider sitting as balanced as if he was standing still.

The lanky boy’s legs were completely still, the mare seemingly picking up commands from Lance’s weight, position, and words as he spoke to her.

    “Recht! Links! Recht! Links!” Lance’s commands were clear and sharp, despite the fact that Hunk couldn’t understand a single one. “Einfach  Mädchen . Trab.” The mare dropped to a forward working trot. “Und halt.” The mare minced to a stop next to Blackbird, tossing her head. Lance slid off her back and landed with a flourish.

    “Taa-daaah!” Hunk clapped, grinning from ear to ear. This Lance character may be a little bit of a spaz occasionally, but he was certainly entertaining.

Pidge spoke up from behind them. “You quiznaks ready to roll? Em’s getting ancy.” She was standing by the trailer, a leadrope in her hand and a tall chestnut mare on the end of it, head up and ears alert.

    “Language, Pidge,” Shiro deadpanned as he led Blackbird over to the trailer. “I’d say Blackbird should go in first with Hunk’s horse. Then probably Red and Pidge’s - Em, right?”

Pidge nodded an affirmative.

    “- And then Lance’s girl. Sound like a plan?” Shiro glanced around at the congregation, registering the nods of agreement before turning and leading Blackbird up the ramp, clicking his tongue to signal the stallion to pick up his feet and step up from the ramp to the bed. He led Blackbird to the left side of the divider and signaled Hunk to take Goldie to the right.

Hunk took a step forward and led Goldie up the ramp, calling a simple “step” when the gelding needed to step up onto the platform. He led Goldie forward and cross-tied him next to Blackbird, closing the rear divider. He stood in front of Goldie and kept the gelding’s attention on him while the others loaded and latched.

A knock sounded on the rear-hatch.

    “You lunatics ready to move? We need to get moving if you want to be evaluated today.” Blaytz was grinning, draped lazily over the half-hatch.

Lance finished clipping his mare into the cross-ties and gave him a thumbs-up.

    “Ready when you are.” The lanky boy grinned, the others nodding and speaking their agreement.

    “Alrighty. Since you’ve got your beasts in the back, you’re all riding in the cab of the trailer. Got it?” He patted the metal rim of the hatch, ring clicking sharply. “No fucking.” He winked and disappeared, the dulie roaring to life a moment later.

Hunk chuckled as he heard at least two indignant squawks and a comment of “ _ Lance _ ” that was probably from Pidge.

Shiro rolled the door to the trailercab open and waved the others through before rolling it back shut and sitting down.

    “So, if we are going to be working together, we should learn our nonhuman teammates too. I’ll start. My horse is Blackbird. He’s a seven-year-old, seventeen-two hands-high Hanoverian stallion. He’s pretty laid-back, but very protective of myself, Red, and Keith. Keith, now you.” Shiro leaned back on the padded seat and looked at his adoptive brother.

Keith shrugged. “My horse is Red. She is a four-year-old eighteen-hand thoroughbred. I got her off the track, so she has a penchant for speed and spirit. She can be troublesome, but she’s affectionate once you earn her trust.”

Hunk picked up the thread next. “My horse is Goldie. He’s a nine-year-old, seventeen-hand Swedish Warmblood gelding. He’s very laid back, but once you put him on a goal, he’s very strong and focused. He’s everybody’s friend, but is very sensitive to weight cues.”

Pidge’s eyes glimmered as he started to speak. “My horse is Em. She’s a nine-year-old, sixteen-one-hands Canadian sport horse. She’s very smart, and also has a penchant for mischief. She is extensively trained in free-riding and liberty.”

Lance had been quiet, just listening, but a smile graced his face as his turn came around. “Blue is my mare. She’s a six-year-old sixteen-three-hand Lusitano. She’s very loyal, and incredibly sensitive to physical aids. All of the vocal commands she knows and responds to are in German.” He beamed.

    “Let’s start another round. What're everybody’s favorite disciplines?” Shiro picked up the conversation again. “Myself and Blackbird are a dressage team. We do some jumping as well, but dressage is Blackbird’s favorite.” He looked at Keith, signaling for his brother to go next.

    “Red and I are Hunter-Jumpers. We have also done some Cross-Country,” He glanced back at Shiro before continuing. “Red’s last rider was a well-known Jockey, and her race trainer was one of the best, so endurance and power is her strong suit. Hunk?”

Hunk nodded. “Goldie’s a dressage horse as well. He loves to show off.” A smile crept across his face. “He’s also a good jumper under the right hands.”

Pidge looked like he was quivering with excitement as he watched the Florida countryside roll past. “Em is a Jumper. She’s got the stride and capabilities to be a dressage horse, but she’s not patient enough. She’s got a good eye for distance and often will change her stride without prompting. She’s also a liberty horse.” He was grinning like fool. “I trained her at liberty starting when she was weaned,” He beamed, earning an impressed eyebrow-raise from Shiro.

    “That’s pretty impressive. Blackbird is sharp enough to learn liberty, but I’ve never tried. Perhaps you can help me. We can all learn from each other. Lance?” Shiro glanced at him expectantly.

Lance hummed, eyes fixed on some distant point, and waited a beat or two before replying.

    “Azul was trained to be a jumper, but her conformation and movement leans more towards dressage, thus, that is the majority of what we show in.” Hunk couldn’t help but think there was more to that story, but as the dulie rolled to a stop, he decided that was a conversation for another day.

    “You decent?” The teasing roll of Blaytz’s jab sounded through the door, drawing a groan from Lance and a laugh from Shiro. The paladin opened the door and poked his head in, a crooked grin making his eyes gleam with mischief. “C’mon, let’s get your beasts out and groomed so you can be evaluated.”

Shiro stood first and held open the door, allowing the other riders through before following.

The group unloaded quickly, working well together and calling directions and warnings to each other. Not a single hoof was thrown, and for that, Hunk was proud of his team.

    “Hey, Hunk?” Pidge called, clipping Em to the ring hitch in her stall.

    “Yeah?” Hunk poked his head out of Goldie’s stall, a currycomb in hand.

    “Do you have a stiff-bristle I can borrow? I can’t find mine.”

Hunk hummed an affirmative and ducked back into Goldie’s stall, handing the brush through the bars between the two stalls.

    “Thanks.”

    “Anytime.”

Tacking went smoothly, each horse’s gear already in the tackroom from pre-shipping. Hunk was buzzing with nervous excitement as he cinched Goldie’s girth tight and checked the stirrup length.

    “You horse dorks ready to roll? We gotta get you evaluated and put with the instructor that fits you best.” Blaytz’s voice sounded as Hunk led Goldie into the aisle, mounting from the block outside Blackbird’s stall. The Paladin was sitting astride a tall Oldenburg stallion, the reins held in one hand and the other resting on his thigh. 

    “Ready when you are,” Shiro replied, mounting Blackbird in an easy swing. 

    “Roger that!” Em was mincing excitedly in place, tossing her head as Pidge got a leg up from Keith and settled easily in the saddle.

    “Ditto.” Lance was already mounted, Azul’s head craned around to nibble at her rider’s pants.

Keith said nothing, vaulting from the ground onto his mare’s back.

Blaytz nodded once before turning his stallion and walking out the doors to a large open arena. Six other riders waited there. Hunk recognized the headmaster - Alfor Altaea - as well as Gyrgan and the stern-looking woman who had been lecturing the paladin as Hunk had left for the stables.

Blaytz filed in line with the other four older riders.

The horse Alfor sat astride stepped forward, arching his neck and chewing at his bit.

    “As you all know, I am Alfor, headmaster of Altaea University. I also instruct for the Pride, so I will likely have at least one of you as my pupil.” He gestured to his right at Blaytz. “These are the other Paladins and instructors. Blaytz, to my right, Za--”

The powerful-looking rider to the left of Alfor cut him off. 

    “You will call me Dabizaal. I own one of the nearby stables, but as Alfor is a close friend of mine, I agreed to come instruct here,” He said, nodding respectfully to each of the younger riders.

    “I am Ellen Trigel, but you may call me Trigel.” The stern woman to the left of Dabizaal spoke, voice ringing crisp and clear.

    “And I am Gyrgan.” The final Paladin gave his signature warm grin.

    “Today’s evaluation will place you with a primary instructor. You will also receive training from the other paladins, as they each have their own skills to offer and teach you. You, on the black horse. What is your name?” Dabizaal asked, eyes trained on Shiro.

The tall student dipped his chin respectfully.

    “Takashi Shirogane, sir.”

Dabizaal nodded.

    “You will ride first. You may choose any set of obstacles that best suits you and your horse. You will start with a Hunter-Jumper round. All of you may take a few rounds to warm up your horses.” The Paladin gestured at the ring.

Shiro nodded, wheeling Blackbird and urging him into a forward working trot. The others followed promptly, and Hunk chuckled as Red tried to pick up a canter, Keith smiling softly as he held her in check.

Goldie arched his neck, asking for contact, and Hunk gave it easily. He spent the rounds loosening the gelding up and watching as the others did their own individual warmups, Keith and Red breezing past him on the second lap in an easy canter, calling a warning as they circled and changed directions, dropping to a trot to change leads. Blackbird wasn’t far behind, moving with an elegance Hunk had only seen from Olympic dressage horses with years of experience and training from the best in the world. Even with mares in the ring, the stallion was focused and collected, moving as if he had wings.

    “Riders! You have had your warmup laps. Please go stand in the center of the ring. Shirogane, you may start your evaluation rounds.” Dabizaal’s deep voice echoed across the arena. Hunk turned Goldie, pulling him down and asking for a halt next to one of the jumps in the center of the ring. The other riders followed suit as Shiro clucked his tongue at Blackbird, asking for more canter. The stallion picked up his feet, neck arched as he eyed the first jump that his rider pointed him towards. The jumps in the arena were small, set only to 80 cm, but each turn and stride had to be carefully counted and planned to find the correct distances.

When focused on a particular goal, Blackbird and Shiro were a sight to behold, moving fluidly with laser-focus, they moved together, both horse and rider picking up on each-other’s subtle cues and corrections. They breezed easily around the ring, executing a few smooth flying lead changes between jumps, finishing the round with neither horse nor rider even panting.

Dabizaal watched the pair carefully, eyes following every movement and every shift in position. He lifted his chin and watched the pair mince to a stop in front of him.

    “Impressive,” He rumbled. “Do you do dressage as well? I noticed that your position was more that of a dressage rider’s.”

Shiro nodded. Blackbird shifted under him, clearly excited. His rider soothed him with a pat.

     “I would like to see your workout routine. Where would you like your fellow riders to stand?” Dabizaal’s horse bobbed his head, bit chain jangling.

     “On the quarterlines, if that’s alright, sir.” Shiro kept his chin dipped respectfully.

The older rider chuckled, one corner of his mouth curling in a half-smile.

     “Just Dabizaal, son,” He said, before turning to the other riders. “You heard the man. Quarterlines.”

The other riders did as they were told, Keith having to turn Red in a couple circles to make her stand still. Shiro picked up contact with Blackbird and the two turned back towards the rail. The dressage pair picked up a trot and Shiro took a couple rounds to loosen Blackbird up. He asked for a shoulder-in and the stallion gave it easily both directions before his rider asked for the canter. Same as with the trot, Shiro did a couple circles and serpentines, before doing a smooth canter pirouette at each end of the ring. He asked for a cross-canter, and Blackbird gave it. All of this was like watching a trained professional pair as opposed to a student and his home-trained mount. They moved as a single unit, each motion counterbalanced by the other’s. It was like watching a dance.

     “Can he piaffe?” Dabizaal called, eyes trained on the pair. 

Shiro said nothing, using a gentle half-halt and bringing Blackbird to a trot, before collecting it and bringing the black stallion almost to a halt as he picked up his feet and swished his tail proudly. The pair held the piaffe for a full minute before Shiro clicked his tongue and urged Blackbird up into a passage, the stallion on the bit and focused. Shiro waited a moment in case of another question, but Dabizaal stayed quiet and the pair picked up a canter, doing a couple lengths of cross-canter and some leg-yield before dropping smoothly to a walk and joining the others on the quarterline.

     “I want that one,” Dabizaal shot at Alfor, tone firm and demanding. Shiro didn’t move, but if Hunk saw the tips of his ears turn red, he wouldn’t tell. Blaytz looked like he wanted to protest, but Alfor beat him to it.

     “As a guest here, I suppose you may choose Mr. Shirogane. If you were still a paladin here, I would cuff you for being so demanding,” He laughed, batting at Blaytz, who looked very put-out. “Who’s next?”

Pidge’s hand shot into the air, drawing another chuckle from Alfor.

     “Alright, Mr. Gunderson. Show us what you’ve got.”

Pidge preened for a moment, before wheeling Em and tracking left. The pair did a courtesy circle at one end of the ring, picking up a canter and turning a tactical bending line, Em’s knees to her chin and front feet crossed primly in front of her. The Canadian Sport Horse wasn’t very big, but her jumps were explosive, sailing over the jumps with inches to spare and the perfect balance of scope and length. The course Pidge chose was tricky, but it showed off his mare’s smooth turns and easily manipulated stride length. The pair wasn’t as elegant to watch as Shiro and Blackbird, but Jumping wasn’t as elegant a discipline as dressage. By the time the pair had wound down and done their finishing courtesy circle, Hunk wished he had been trained to jump, because the bright grin on Pidge’s face and the matching pep in Em’s step were invigorating.

     “I can try a little dressage, if you’d like, but Em’s not really patient enough for it.” Pidge gave an apologetic grin, bringing the mare to a halt in front of the paladins.

Alfor didn’t seem to be paying attention; he was currently having a staredown with Trigel. They stared at each other for a moment before Alfor backed down with a sigh and Trigel gave a smug grin.

     “Mr. Gunderson--”

     “Pidge, please,” The boy interjected, that same crooked slightly-apologetic grin on his face.

“Alright then, Pidge. You and your mare will be my students. You will join the Hunter-Jumper team with whomever Alfor chooses,” She opened her mouth to say something else, but pounding of hooves cut her off as a grey Arab mare thundered into the arena in a swirl of dust and sand. As the cloud cleared, another horse trotted in, bareback and panting.

     “I warned her that you were in the middle of an evaluation, but she wouldn’t listen.” The rider of said horse looked equally winded.

In the middle of the arena, directly in front of Alfor, the mare stood bearing a young woman with long silver hair tied into a braid that trailed down her back. Hunk’s eyes flicked between the girl and Alfor as the latter pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment.

     “Lu, darling, what have I told you about interrupting evaluations?” He sighed, clearly attempting to conceal a fond smile. 

The mare danced in place, her rider equally restless.

     “Father, we just beat our time by point seven!” She cried, a bright smile stretched across her face. Her braid flicked over her shoulder as she turned to look at the other riders. “Any western riders, or just eventers?” She patted the horn of the western saddle she sat in.

Alfor beamed, no longer trying to hide his smile.

     “Point seven? You two are getting faster every day,” He grinned. “Allura, these are the new members of The Pride.”

Lance whispered something to Blue, and the mare ducked into a bow.

     “M’lady,” Lance smirked, giving the best bow he could on horseback.

The girl laughed, turning her mare to face the younger riders.

     “Another Blaytz? One is too much already,” She shot a wink at the Paladin, earning an indignant squawk for her efforts.

She just laughed, clearly comfortable with the Paladins, and turned back.

     “I am Allura Altaea, and this is Princess. We’re barrel-racers,” She patted her mare’s shoulder. “I expect we will all get to know each other soon.”

Shiro nudged Blackbird forward, the stallion not fazed by the new mare in the arena.

     “I’m Takashi Shirogane. My stallion’s name is Blackbird. We’re - I guess - Dabizaal’s students now.” He offered the girl a smile, receiving one in return.

     “I’m Keith, and this is Red.” He shifted in his saddle, the thoroughbred shifting her feet in tandem.

     “This is Azùl, and my name’s Lance, but you could call me yours,” Lance grinned at Allura, and the girl rolled her eyes in amused exasperation. 

     “I’m Hunk, and this is Goldie,” Hunk smoothed his hand down his gelding’s neck, smiling broadly.

     “And I’m Pidge. This is Em,” He waved.

Allura surveyed them for a moment from under the brim of her Stetson, before turning and nodding at her father.

     “It was nice to meet you, but I should let you finish your evaluations. I’ll see you around!” She grinned, clicking at Princess and cantering out of the ring, calling “C’mon Coran!” over her shoulder. The other rider turned and followed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, horse terms.  
>  Cross-canter: Switching from one lead to the next every, every other, or every few strides.  
>  Hunter-Jumper: A discipline involving counted strides and obstacles that must be jumped.  
>  Cross-Country/XC: Like hunter-Jumper, except with solid obstacles made to look like they were there without being placed. Eg. Logs, fences, chicken coops, hedges, etc.  
>  Dressage: A discipline that's more like a synchronized dance.   
>  Liberty: A rider communicating commands to their horse via gestures or words whilst standing on the ground.  
>  Quarterlines: The track slightly to the inside of the fence, enough so that a rider can move on the rail without worrying about the horses on the quarterline.  
>  Shoulder-in: Exactly what it sounds like. The horse moves their shoulders in slightly while still keeping their hindquarters on the fence. It makes the horse reach under themselves and stretch.  
>  Leg-yield: Like shoulder-in, the horse moves sideways without turning their body. It stretches the legs and shoulders and loosens the horse to respond to leg.  
>  Piaffe: A highly-collected trot where horse and rider come to a near - or complete - stop while still maintaining the trot rhythm.  
>  Passage: A bouncing, up-and-down trot, like a moving piaffe.  
>  Scope: The amount of arc in horse's jump.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my drug.  
> Enable me.  
> -  
> On another note, thank you so much for reading my fic! I understand that it's still in the works, but I'm a college student, so please be patient with me. I will update as often as possible. Thank you again, and have a good day~


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